


Secret Chord

by perhapsless



Category: In the Bleak Midwinter (Webcomic)
Genre: F/M, I have no excuse for this, Shower Sex, absolutely none, and the tiniest hint of plot, bro this is literally just. porn with emotion, except robot man make horny
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-01
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-12 16:07:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29138289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/perhapsless/pseuds/perhapsless
Summary: Some things you just can't talk about.(Or: Omega needs Anya. Porn with the bare minimum of plot but lots of emotion ensues. I have no excuses, you've been warned.)
Relationships: Anya/Omega (In the Bleak Midwinter), Omega/Anya (In the Bleak Midwinter)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 27





	Secret Chord

She feels him before she hears him.

Something familiar ghosts along the inside of her wrist like a morning kiss, and she sighs, her whole body releasing a tension she carries with her every time he leaves. She tilts her head to the side - she hears the rustling of fabric as it pools on the tiles, just barely audible over the rushing water- and feels a quiet thrill arch through her core as the shower door slides open. 

It’s been nearly a year since their first time, but his skin on hers still sets her aflame. 

He stands behind her a few moments before stepping forward, resting his forehead against her shoulder, powerful arms encircling her waist and pulling her flush against him. She reaches up and runs her fingers across the nape of his neck, water slowly saturating his hair, and she feels his breath run hot against her bare skin. Slowly, his head turns to place a soft, lingering kiss at the base of her throat. And another, more pressure this time, tracing languidly to the skin just under her jaw.

His arms are so strong, his touch purposeful and commanding, and yet so gentle as one hand moves up to cup her breast. She melts against his touch, her head falling back as his thumb traces around her pebbled teat. His other hand lifts to wrap around her jaw, angling her face towards him so he can kiss her, and she keens at the tone he’s taking, the way his lips give absolutely no room for argument. His hand tightens around her throat, his fingers pinching her bud with just enough pressure to draw pain. 

And it hurts  _ so good.  _

She can feel him, hard and thick, pressed against her lower back, and she grinds against him shamelessly, biting her lip when he groans into her skin. He’s close to snapping already, she can tell, his grip is getting tighter and his mouth is insistent against her throat. Something must have happened, for him to be so on edge.

But  _ fuck _ , it feels good to be so thoroughly wanted. 

She moves to turn in his arms, and before she’s even halfway around, he’s got his hands under her ass, spreading her thighs apart as he heaves her up and against the tile wall. She yelps at the impact, not quite able to catch her breath before he swallows it, his tongue sliding against hers. Her breasts are crushed against his chest as he kisses her, and she moans as he goes deeper and deeper. 

His hold is utterly unbreakable, she’s trapped here against the shower wall, and it’s here- wrapped in his arms, his skin bare against hers- that she feels most at home. As forceful as he is, she knows she’s safe here, knows he will never, ever hurt her, knows that he can do anything he wants to her and she’ll love it. 

And the fact that she’s what he wants, so badly that he couldn’t wait for her to get out of the shower, is intoxicating. 

One of his hands has left her thigh to wander inwards, and she gasps as his finger slowly traces across her parted lips, back to front. Her nails dig into his back as he repeats the motion, slower this time, lingering just over her clit. The aching in her core is almost unbearable, she can feel the moisture there pooling, and she grinds against his palm. He smirks against her mouth, then groans as she arches into him. 

_ Yeah. Not so smug now, are you? _

He breaks away from her, just a few inches, and she wants to whine at the distance before she sees him bring his fingers to his tongue and taste her, his eyes never leaving hers. And that hand returns to her throat, firmly holding her against the shower wall as he adjusts her-

-And she makes the mistake of letting her eyes drift shut as his shaft grazes against her, and his hand squeezes some of the air from her lungs. 

“ _ Look at me.”  _

Her eyes snap open, and he relaxes his grip, his dark eyes boring into hers, his jaw set. Slowly, torturously, he eases into her, and she wants so desperately to throw her head back at the familiar, delicious pain, but she doesn’t dare look away. Her mouth drops open and his thumb grazes her lower lip, teasing. Her nails dig into his skin as he fills her, stretching her slowly, replacing the ache with pressure. 

He leans his forehead against hers. There’s always a moment, when they first come together, somewhere between tearing her apart and putting her back together again, a moment when they revel in it. A moment where there is nothing else except that they fit together like perfect puzzle pieces, that he fills her up and she feels whole, finally, feels like there’s nothing in this world but him and his dark eyes seeing straight into her soul. 

_ It’s yours. Always. _

And then he moves in her, and she wraps her legs tightly around him, and he’s never close enough, even chest to chest, pressed against the cool wall. He captures her lips in a searing kiss, finally letting her close her eyes, and she moves one hand to his hair. She drags her nails across the nape of his neck and he groans into her mouth, slamming into her, the pressure building in her abdomen. 

And it’s just their hot, gasping breaths intermingling, the steam rising around them, the slick of their skin sliding against one another as he fucks her against the tiles. It’s her favorite part, being so full of him, her thighs trembling as she tries to hold on. He slides almost completely out before driving in deep, and she moans his name. 

The pressure around her throat increases again, and she opens her eyes. 

She whimpers when she makes eye contact, a low keening echoing from her chest . He’s been watching her this whole time, she knows, he likes to watch her face as she starts to come undone. He’s picking up the pace now, his strokes alternating between fast and shallow and  _ slow and deep, _ and she can feel him losing control, too. Half-lidded, her gaze meets his, dark and intense, the tension in her core building like an ocean swell. 

_ Come on, baby.  _

His grip on her thigh adjusts just enough to angle her downward and the shock it sends through her system pushes her over, and she’s lost in him, overwhelmed again and again as the waves roll through her. She feels his chest shudder against her, his breath hot and gasping against her hair. 

Her thighs are totally spent, and she’s thankful when he stands there with her for a moment, his thumb gently stroking the side of her throat. Still, there’s a feeling of loss when he slides out of her, an emptiness left behind. 

She misses him already.

  
  


\-----------------

She’d quickly stolen the shirt he’d discarded on the floor, currently curled up in his bed wearing it and not much else. Her hair, still damp, is tangled like seaweed across his chest. 

He’s got one arm around her, the other gently stroking the back of her hand. She studies his face, his square jaw- set, slightly clenched- the curves of his face, the shape of his lips- straight, preoccupied- and the furrow of his brow. His HUD is glowing, clearly running through some calculation she’s not privy to. 

“What happened?” 

He’s silent for a moment, then sighs, the blue light dimming until his gaze has returned to the steely gray he reserves only for her and his family. 

“Your brother knew where our infantry was. I don’t know how.” 

She frowns, lifting her head slightly to better meet his gaze. Omega’s forces had been relocating to a new outpost, she knew, but there shouldn’t have been any skirmishes….

“How many lost?” 

There’s a pause, and she sees it now, sees the burning regret and shame and fury in his eyes. 

“Almost 200.” 

It’s an unheard of number for the androids, to lose so many. She’s gotten to know many of them, been surprised to find that they were each unique, that they had personalities, senses of humor, and she’s struck by how devastating the loss must be for him. She cradles the side of his face in her hand, and he leans against the palm, his eyes drifting shut. 

She doesn’t say anything else. She doesn’t have to. 

**Author's Note:**

> S/O to sxerien (el) and ladyface (kat) for beta'ing this, because I'm a hot mess (and so is Omega for that matter)  
> I feel like even ickle brilliant general boy loses occasionally. thankfully, he has his other half to keep him warm. 
> 
> i will offer no explanation for this, let me go back to my angst now


End file.
